One at a Time
by RaineJoybringer
Summary: A series of short one shots about various Naruto characters. Fics contains spoilers and occasionally various pairings. Please read the summary notes on each chapter for more details.
1. Acceptance of a Monster

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N:** Hi, welcome here to my little collection of one-shots. These are quick pieces that I have written just for no reason other than I like doing that. Heh… anyway, a word of warning, some of these will probably have spoilers for the series, as well a couple pairing fics every now and then. Read the author notes at the top of each chapter to find out what it will contain.

This fic is a Gaara-centric piece. The summary is: _What we think our destiny is may not be. But then… the unexpected twist may just fulfil our greatest dream._

Enjoy!

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**Acceptance of a Monster **

Gaara had always known he was destined for something. Even when he was shunned as a small child, he still knew he was meant to go somewhere, do _something._

But, in his mind it was never something great. He had always imagined it'd be slaughtering hundreds of people in a pointless war, gaining greatness for the country, but not for himself. Regardless, at that time he'd relished the thought of the slaughter, even if he still felt some kind of jealousy that he was never meant to take the glory but the hatred.

That all changed though when he met Uzumaki Naruto. The blond-haired boy had given him hope to believe that maybe, just maybe, one day he'd be destined for something worth while. Slaughter was no longer a thought that was constantly on his mind.

Drifting, eventual, a look to the sky… the thoughts he once held melted away, replaced by something bigger.

And then that day had come, he was made Kazekage. Faces never held that look of disdain any longer. The lips never snarled at him – they turned upwards… a smile, Gaara realised. How long had it been since seeing one? How long had it been since he'd smiled back, not with jealousy and madness, but by reflecting the feelings of acceptance back?

"Acceptance," Gaara muttered to himself as he looked out over the desert.

"What'd you say, Bro?"

"Acceptance," repeated the red-head, glancing back at his older brother. "I found acceptance."

"Acceptance is a good thing," replied his brother with a nod. "You worked hard for it."

"I used to be jealous of people like you, and how everyone accepted you so easily."

"You don't have to be anymore, Gaara."

Gaara turned and smiled. "Yeah."


	2. The Way You Are

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N:** This one features a NaruSaku kind of story. The summary for this one is: _This is how he saw her, a symbol; this is how she saw him, a reflection_.

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**The Way you Are **

"Back… when you were away."

"Huh?"

"When you were away… I, uh, I…"

Naruto tilted his head, looking at the girl sitting next to him. She was a pretty thing, with emerald green eyes and cherry blossom pink hair.

_Cherry Blossom_, that's what her name was. Her name was a symbol of many meanings – of femineity, beauty and… although it caused him to gulp thinking about it, _sexuality._ But there was another side to just those external ones.

_Cherry Blossoms_, revered because of how fleeting they are – here one day, then gone another. The falling petals represented those brave warriors fallen in battle, having fought until their last breath, and then… gone. The petals scattered to the wind, like souls drifting away to heaven.

Sakura's soul hadn't left though. Not yet. She was still fighting, still blooming… still here. And here she was, sitting right next to him, a blush slowly creeping across the soft skin of her cheeks.

"I… wasn't…" she started to say. She felt so awkward, though she'd known him for so many years. She looked him in the eyes. He gazed back curiously.

_Those eyes_. Why did they enrapture her so? They were so bright it was almost frightening. They reflected the sky, the ocean, forget-me-nots on a warm summer's day. So innocent, but so full of _pain_. How could she have said so many of those hurtful things to him when they were children?

_And his smile_. Whenever she had said those things, it would vanish, but not for long. She knew the smile was a mask, but the mask looked so full of truth. She'd seen many masks in her lifetime. For a long time she followed another, albeit a different one that was ultimately an inverted version from the smile on Naruto's face. The other one showed pain, rarely smiling at all. The eyes had been different too. They weren't bright. They didn't reflect bright things. But they were enrapturing all the same. It was the mystery that had reeled her in.

But sometimes, it was the mystery that was more interesting than the truth. And when the answer finally surfaced, the mystery fell apart, shattered, and it no longer existed. Only the truth remained.

"What is it, Sakura-chan?" Naruto leaned in, raising an eyebrow at her. "You look constipated."

"Idiot!" Sakura clonked Naruto on the head. The boy rubbed the newly formed lump, pouting at her. She sighed and leaned over, placing a kiss on his cheek. "When you were away, I thought about you, more than him. I missed you."

Naruto blinked, more shocked than anything. "What?"

"Just smile for me, idiot," Sakura told him, smiling as once again she saw reflected in his face those bright things she loved so much. "That's better," she said.


	3. What Tobi Thinks

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N:** I love Tobi. He's such a cute character.

Anyway, the summary for this is: _Tobi loves a lot of things. He likes to draw, but only in secret. _

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**What Tobi Thinks **

Tobi loved his mask. It was orange and had a spiral on it, swirl, swirly, swirling towards a hole where his right eye could peek out without anyone seeing in. It was like he was inside his own little fort, where he was invisible and nobody could touch him.

Maybe it was for that reason he was always surprised whenever someone seemed to penetrate that invisible barrier and talked to him or touched him.

Tobi didn't like it when people did that. He liked it when he felt like his mask made him invincible. Sometimes when he was bored, he'd draw that he was a superhero, flying through the sky and punching out bad guys with lots of 'WHACK!' and 'KAPOW!' sound effects.

He knew that being a real superhero was a dream however. But it was fun to pretend in real life though. In real life, he was a ninja – kinda boring really. The world had lots of ninja, but they didn't have any superheroes. And ninja couldn't fly, not that he'd seen anyway. The only ninja he'd seen fly was Deidara-senpai, and that was on the back of a bird… before he blew it up.

Tobi thought Deidara-senpai was awesome. Really awesome. Super awesome! He made sculptures out of clay and then they would explode! Tobi called it 'pop-art', because it went bang, just like a balloon. But Deidara-senpai didn't like that term. He thought it was too cute to properly express his art form. It was more 'super-flat', because that's what it did.

Deidara-senpai was pretty cool, at least according to Tobi. He was like a best friend, one that'd threaten to kill you if you made fun of them. Tobi liked to make fun of his senpai, but only when he knew the most he'd get was a strangling. Deidara-senpai's art was cool, but only if you weren't near it when it went off. And Tobi had seen enough dismembered limbs to get the point.

Tobi liked to draw more than just him as a superhero. He liked to draw other things – flowers, butterflies, monster trucks that turned into giant robots and went on killing sprees... He secretly kept a drawing book and a packet of crayons in the pocket of his coat at all times.

He'd never shown Deidara-senpai his art. He was too embarrassed. Even when he one day drew a portrait of himself and his senpai with flamethrowers running through a forest burning small woodland animals, he'd been too nervous to show him. He didn't know why he felt so nervous. He liked to draw, but his senpai was like an art professional! He probably wouldn't like anything that wasn't worthy of being in an art gallery.

But his mask made him feel invincible. Maybe for once it would bring good luck too?

"Deidara-senpai?" asked Tobi, edging towards his partner nervously, his hands behind his back.

"What is it, Tobi, hn?" His senpai glanced up from eating lunch. He took a bite of his sandwich.

Tobi couldn't think what to say. Panicked, he slammed his picture down on the table and ran for it, arms waving madly in the air in the rush to get away.

Deidara gulped down the rest of his sandwich and picked up the picture.

Later, when Tobi managed to find the courage to tiptoe back to the kitchen, he saw something stuck on the fridge – his picture. There it was, hanging on the fridge, kept in place by a big shiny fridge magnet of a bumblebee. And a note was stuck under the magnet as well. Tobi pulled it out and read it.

"Keep up the good work. At this rate you'll start to make me look bad."

Tobi still thought Deidara-senpai was the best.


	4. You made me Remember

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N:** This was actually stand-alone on my list of stories, but I may as well move it here and delete the other one. It makes more sense, at least to me?

The summary for this is: _Set during Timeskip, Hinata worries about the Chuunin Exam and then remembers something..._

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**You made me Remember**_  
_

_'The Chuunin Exam starts today..  
_

_It starts today... today! _

_Am I strong enough? I don't know if I am...' _

Delicate fingers tapped themselves together softly as their owner chewed on her bottom lip worriedly. White eyes tinted with lavender gazed at the floor, moving left to right swiftly as if they were searching for some answer amongst the floorboards.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door, making the girl jump.

"Hinata, your team mates are waiting for you outside. Hurry up."

"Yes, Father!"

Hinata fell back to pacing up and down the length of her room, her fingers still tapping together nervously.

_'Shino-kun and Kiba-kun are waiting for me_,' she thought. '_I can't let them down. But I shouldn't get in their way either. I don't want to mess things up. _

_I've trained really hard... but so has everyone else... and, everyone else seems stronger than me..  
_

_And Neji-nii-san will be participating again this year...' _

The dark haired girl stopped dead in her tracks before her dresser, feeling her heartbeat speed up. Flashes of memory from the previous exam were dragged up into her mind's eye.

She shook her head to try and clear the images.

_'No! I can't think about that. And Neji-nii-san is different now. He'd never do that now.  
_

_But... what about the other participants? What if this time is even worse?' _

She plonked down onto the side of her bed, her fingers tapping together almost furiously now.

_'Self-confidence... self-confidence...'_ she kept repeating to herself like a mantra.

_You know, I used to think you were a dark-haired weirdo, but now, I think I'm starting to like people like you. _

Hinata blinked and glimpsed up. The voice seemed so far away, but she knew it almost instantly.

"Naruto-kun," she whispered, standing back up and going to her dresser. She opened a drawer, pulling out a photo she kept hidden in the very back of it. A blush crept over her face and she smiled at the photo of the blond-haired boy eating ramen messily whilst keeping a gigantic grin on his face.

She'd taken it in secret, of course, but it seemed somehow better that way. He wasn't posing or anything. He was just... smiling... and over something as simple as a bowl of ramen.

"I had forgotten... just how much you had supported me and told me to do my best... And when I said that 'by believing in yourself, you can become a new person', you smiled at me and said you could do anything if you worked hard enough for it."

"Hinata! Hurry up!" The door rattled with knocking

Hinata quickly placed the photo back into her drawer, a more confident look on her face.

"This time, Naruto-kun, I'll work hard so you can see how much I've changed when you finally come home."


	5. The Smile

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N:** Don't ask… I was thinking about something and ended up with something completely different.

Summary: _The Ninth Tail. _

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**The Smile **

_Body shaking. Trembling. Fearful. _

"The ninth tail," she whispered.

Blood soaked her clothes and face. Droplets fell from her hair onto the thirsting ground. Bloody raindrops, all from the man that had just been about to slit her throat.

She'd stood there while he'd had been ripped apart, his blood splattering messily onto her as the two halves fell to either side. He'd never said a word. But it was obvious who he was – the man who had caused so much grief to their lives, who sent his subjects to destroy lives. He'd been the one Sasuke's brother had turned to and fought along side with.

But now, it was over. Her body was trembling. The blood on her face dried and began to flake. Hot winds blew across the burning field. The skies were turning dark.

The massive chakra hand that had split the Akatsuki leader in half drew itself back, claws leaving gullies in its wake. Burning flesh sizzled from where the hand had touched it. The smell was putrid and overwhelming.

But not as overwhelming as the sight before her... Two massive white orbs drew closer towards her, empty but full of everything in the world she feared. She saw things in those eyes that made tears begin to run down her face.

"Naruto?"

The giant mouth gaped open and close. There was nothing but a black pit within it, like an entrance to hell that threatened to swallow her up.

"Where… where is Naruto?" she asked.

The creature smiled. Sakura's eyes widened. That smile… it was _his_…


	6. Try Again

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N:** Sasuke and Karin's "relationship" has made me curious.

Summary: _It's no secret Karin likes Sasuke, but how far will she go? And how far will Sasuke let her? _

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**Try Again **

"Aw, please, Sasuke-kun? Can't I just sit down next to you?" Eyelids fluttered as the girl before him tried her best to look enticing to him. She turned her glasses over and over again in her hands, fiddling as she waited for a response. She placed her lips into a pout and fluttered her eyelids again at him.

"Fine," muttered Sasuke. He was getting tired of Karin's constant advances towards him. She'd tried the eyelash battering routine so many times now it had lost all meaning – not that it had ever held much meaning to him in the first place. He'd seen it so many times before in the faces of other girls. He brows furrowed in thought.

_Ooh, I love it when he gets all thoughtful_, Karin whispered to herself. She edged just that tiny bit closer to him. _I got past the first challenge. Now to get serious… he won't be able to resist. _

_Why does she do this?_ Sasuke asked himself. His eyes glanced across to the girl who had let out a tiny 'oops' of surprise. She had tried to sit her glasses on the zipper of her jacket, but had somehow managed to make it slide down, revealing a tiny bit of cleavage. When she noticed his gaze, she let out an embarrassed giggle. No blush spread across her face though. _She did that purposely_. Sasuke turned his gaze away. _Even Sakura would not have resorted to such demeaning tactics as that._

_Alright! He looked! _Karin secretly gave a smirk of victory. _He's looking away now, but he's just shy, I know he is. After being with Orochimaru for so long, I bet he's completely clueless about females! I'll just have to smarten him up though. He'll listen to everything I want him to do…_

Fingertips brushed against Sasuke's hand, lightly dancing up his arm. Sasuke ignored the feeling; it was bad enough that her fingers were freezing cold. The feeling suddenly landed on his chest, the girl's hand resting there. One finger tickled against his collarbone.

"Sasuke-kun…" Karin leant in until her lips were just millimetres from his ear. "You want me, don't you?" She pulled back, a hand reaching up to unzip her jacket. Her heart pounded excitedly. She'd never gotten this far before!

Just as her zipper was halfway down, Sasuke stood up.

"Why do you treat me like some kind of game?" he asked, staring off into the air.

"G-game?" repeated Karin. Her fingers let go of the zipper. The edges of a lacy black bra peeked from under the half-opened jacket. "I-I don't treat you like a game!"

Sasuke turned to stare her straight in the eyes, not even once glancing down at her chest. "Every day it's the same, trying to get a little further along. I've seen it far too many times, so you aren't the first."

Finally his eyes travelled down. Karin blushed; for once it was real though. She quickly zipped her jacket back up and put her glasses on, sliding them back up clumsily as they fell down.

Sasuke smirked. "But you are the first to get _that_ far," he muttered, walking away.


	7. How to Improve

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N:** A short fic written about Sai and his personal journey to improve himself, not only art-wise but relationship-wise as well.

Summary: _Sai struggles to improve himself. It used to be about art, but now he's got friendship to think about too. Can't it be simpler? _

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**How to Improve **

_How can I improve?_ Sai stared down at the table. He propped an elbow on it, supporting his head with his hand. His other hand thumbed through one book, and then another. _What should I improve?_

He stared at the two books, eyes moving between them. One was an art book, full of interesting illustrations and words of inspiration to get the mind itchy for drawing. The other was a book on relationships, talking about friendship and showing diagrams of ordinary, everyday things like people sitting together at a picnic.

_What should I improve? _

Drawing meant so much to him. It had been his only emotional output since he was young because his own face could not be a canvas for emotion. The Root division had tried so hard to keep him from giving even a smile, but they couldn't help it when he decided to put smiling faces on his creations.

But now, things were different. Slowly, he was learning how to paint emotions on his own face, replicating the ones he'd drawn so many times in his life. He knew the faces, like the tiny motion of furrowing of brows for concern, and when one teardrop shone on the edge of an eye in the build-up to taking in loss. And now he had people to show them to, friends.

Friends he wanted desperately to show more appreciation for. But where would he start? The book suggested such strange things, like picnics and going to movies. He'd never done those things before. And what would you talk about? But weren't you supposed to not talk when you were inside a movie theatre? How do you build relationships if you're not allowed to talk?

Sai tapped his finger on the page of the art book.

_Appreciation… drawing… friendship… smiling… talking… gifts… Gifts?_

His eyes moved between the books again. There, on the pages was one similar sentence: _Art can be a wonderful gift to share._

He didn't know if they meant it in the same context, but he had just found his inspiration. Sai closed the books and placed them back on the shelves.

_It's like any other day of the week_, he said to himself as he set up a blank canvas. _But this time I'm drawing for my friends. _


	8. In the Desert Rain

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N: **I've always wanted to write something GaaHina... XD They're oddly adorable.

**Summary:** It was curiosity that got him into this situation. He should have brought another umbrella.

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**In the Desert Rain**

She'd never liked the rain. That dark sky, the rain that chilled her bones, and the occasional rumble from above that made her shiver… It always reminded her of sad things, like the look on Naruto's face when he had been ignored as a child. She remembered sitting in her room when she was young and looking out towards the training fields outside, where her cousin trained endlessly in the pouring rain – trying his best to prove himself.

Bad things always seemed to happen on rainy days. It was although your tears wanted desperately to join those falling from the heavens, your pain trying to hide itself within the drops and be washed away.

Hinata shuddered. It was raining. In the desert.

In the desert?

Tears absorbed by the sands, indifferent, greedily sucking up all it could find.

But rain in such a place… was it an omen, or a miracle?

She tightly squeezed her arms around her, trying to keep warm. The hood of her jacket was soaked, but she kept it on, giving herself only minor cover from the raindrops that splattered onto her head in a steady rhythm.

'Please don't let the documents get wet,' she prayed. 'I have to get them to Suna. I can't let everyone down.'

The rain continued to fall, ignoring her pleas. Wind began to howl, blowing up the wet sand and sticking to Hinata's clothes and skin as if the desert were trying to claim her like it did the rain.

It was too hard to see, and using Byakugan was hopeless. It all ended up looking the same in every direction.

She paused. No, something wasn't the same in front of her. There was something there, moving towards her. A shape began to form, a little taller than her. Something colourful was hanging above it though.

Before she could realise what it was, he was there standing before her, an umbrella covering the top of his head.

'Hyuuga-san,' he said in a calm tone. 'I have come to escort you.'

Hinata blinked. The person before her… 'Gaara-sama?' Her eyebrows knit in confusion. Why was _he_ here? She was only delivering documents, not something that the _Kazekage himself_ had to come and help with.

The young man observed her in interest, seeing the confusion on her face. He'd never tell anyone it, but he hadn't come out here simply for documents. He'd seen her before, on previous missions where she had come to Suna. And somehow, she had always intrigued him with her quiet demeanour and those pale eyes that seemed to belong to a ghost.

But, he'd seen something else in those eyes too. Determination. It only made him more curious.

And when he had heard she was coming alone to deliver documents… curiosity got the better of him.

She sneezed, blinking up at him and apologising quietly for it.

The edge of the Kazekage's mouth twitched.

'Is… there something wrong?' asked Hinata at sight of his expression. For some reason, he always made her nervous. She'd tried to avoid him in past missions – she could never forget those times during the Chuunin Exams. The images still haunted her dreams. She knew Naruto had some kind of friendship with him though, so maybe he wasn't so bad… but still…

She sneezed again. That darn rain…

It took her a moment to realise that for some time the rain hadn't been pounding on her head. She looked up, seeing the umbrella hanging above her head. When she looked back at Gaara, she saw he had lost his own cover. His red hair was starting to cling to his skin as the rain fell on him.

'It isn't right to be so cold in the desert,' muttered the Kazekage.

'But you…' she started. 'Why?'

'The rain doesn't favour my use of sand,' he said simply. 'It is too heavy to control.'

'That wasn't what I…' Hinata paused, suddenly embarrassed. The rain was still falling on his head, and his clothes were soaked now. She took the umbrella from his grasp and moved closer to him, huddling close so they could both take cover.

'Thank you,' murmured the young man. He hadn't exactly expected this. And her hanging off his arm, it didn't feel quite right. All he had wanted to know was what had created that determination in her eyes, not find himself sharing such a "close" moment with her. The feeling, it was new, unusual, but somehow, just a little exciting.

As Hinata clung to his arm, she felt the warmth radiating from him. She closed her eyes for a moment. The warmth… it felt so much like what the sand would be if it was bathed in the sunlight. It was comforting, somehow. Her eyes snapped back open as she began to feel the unease of the situation. She didn't want to be so close all of a sudden, but then, it wouldn't be fair for him to be in the rain again. And she just couldn't bring herself to want to leave the warmth of his arm.

The two were silent. It was all too awkward.

'We will have to walk to Suna like this,' said Hinata, a deep blush had crawled over her cheeks.

'I suppose,' replied Gaara.

A brightly coloured umbrella bobbed up and down amongst the sand dunes as a closely huddled pair of shinobi made their way through the desert. And still the rain fell. But under that umbrella, the sad things refused to enter - a tiny shelter in the middle of such despair.

Still, the awkwardness remained.

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	9. Believer

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N: **I haven't really seen any fics with Yahiko, Konan and Nagato in them together, so I thought I'd give it a try (also, blame Silverchair's 'Straight Lines' song. Damn that thing is inspiring). Oh, and caution for spoilers!

**Summary:** The death of a man, the birth of a god and his angel.

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**Believer**

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry."

"Don't talk. Stay still."

She couldn't stop it… the tips of her fingers squelched against the blood flowing from the bubbling wound. The paper she held against it was quickly becoming drenched. Bubbles blossomed and burst as the young man under her tried to breath. He coughed, his lungs trying to empty the liquid filling them. It ran down his chin, covering his hair and shirt with red and eventually pooling beneath him.

She couldn't help it… she applied more chakra, trying to get her paper to act as a plug. She wasn't a medic – what was she supposed to do?

They had been lucky, so lucky, to have survived so far. But their luck had finally ran out.

"I said I'd… protect you." Fingers twitched, scrabbling towards the girl's hands on his chest. His desperate grip wrapped around her wrist. "Konan, I don't wanna die."

"Shut up, Yahiko! Just shut up!" She bit on her lower lip, fighting back the tears. She didn't want her gaze to become blurred. She had to see everything, keep focussed. Strands of blue hair fell across her face, but she couldn't move her hands. She didn't dare do it. Her eyes flashed upwards for a brief second. The other young man with them just stood there, like a statue, frozen. His one visible eye stared at the wound in his friend's chest. But she could tell, even in the rain, that he was crying. It had been a long time since Nagato had cried, not since they were much younger. The tears that he had abandoned so long ago came flooding back, and he fell on his knees. He had learnt everything their sensei had taught them – every element, every strategy – but he'd never learnt how to heal.

Yahiko was staring at them both, his eyes racing between the two faces. He saw nothing but those two, those two that he had met when they were young. The first time he'd seen Konan she was sitting on an embankment, covered in mud with nothing but rags on and a paper crane in her hands – they littered the ground around her, tiny paper cranes everywhere.

_Why are you making those?_

_If… If I make enough of them, an angel will come and answer my prayer. Are… you the angel?_

_If you want me to be._

They'd held hands for a long time after that as they travelled. They'd stopped holding hands when they came across the boy sitting next to the ruins of a run-down shack, surrounded by crudely-made grave markers. They hadn't been sure if it was a girl or a boy at first when they'd met. He was crying so much, long shaggy hair covering his face. They'd been surprised when he finally noticed them and held his fringe up so he could properly see them. His eyes were bloodshot, they didn't know how long he'd been crying. But… the bruises… He must have been in so much pain.

Together, Yahiko and Konan reached out and took the boy's hands.

"Yahiko… don't die. Don't leave us. Please don't."

"He's not going to die, Nagato. He can't." Konan's arms trembled as she whispered. She'd been holding them there for something that felt like forever. "He won't… he won't."

She kept pushing, why wouldn't the blood stop? Why couldn't she help him like he'd helped them all those years ago? Those times before, like when she'd had that fever. He'd picked her up and carried her all the way. They'd walked, following a road that stretched straight ahead and into the distance. The road had been so long they'd had to camp next to it. Somehow Yahiko had been able to set a fire, and he'd kept her next to it. He kept her warm, telling her everything would be fine until the next morning she'd woken up feeling strong again.

_Are you feeling better, Konan?_

_Yes. Thank you, Yahiko._

_I'm glad._

_No. I'm glad you're my angel. I'll always believe that you are…_

Yahiko's hand gripped harder, more frantically. His other hand flexed open and closed seeming like it wanted something to hold. Nagato filled it with his own, not flinching at the ragged nails scratching his skin. He could never forget those days before – Yahiko had stolen for them when they were desperate and fed them – three little orphans invisible to the world as they sought shelter in a narrow alleyway. He'd tried hard to change himself. Yahiko always asked if he was really a boy or not with all the crying he did. He didn't like the teasing, but it always pushed him to cry a little less each day. And Konan had been there too to support him. She was a girl, but never a damsel in distress. Her example pushed him too.

The grip the two felt lessened. Their eyes both fled to their friend's face. He coughed, a smile on his face.

"I remember those times," he said. "All those yesterdays…"

His gaze went to the sky.

"I wouldn't change them… ever…"

His hands went limp in their grip.

Konan's hands lifted from their task. _I'll be the angel from now on… I'll be your angel now. _

Nagato placed a hand on the young man's face, closing his eyelids. _I'll protect everyone now. I'll show them your pain, so then no one will be hurt again. We'll show them your pain together, Yahiko…_

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	10. The Desert Listens for her Name

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N:** I'm not entirely sure this format is allowed on FFnet with the numbers, but I think it's enough of a story regardless. The format is based off one called '20 Truths', where you aim to describe a character without using a profile. It's a very unique way of story-telling and I find it very enriching. I wrote this one a while ago, but I hope you still enjoy it.

Oh, and the pairing warning is TemaShika, with a couple other non-descript ones in there somewhere.

Summary: _There are many truths to this world - these ones belong to the wind, to Temari._

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**The Desert Listens for her Name**

**1.** Temari feels the hot sand burn through the sandals on her feet. She's been in this desert her entire life. She knows it like a child, one that is temperamental, ever-moving, and always speaks the truth.

The desert has never lied to her. It may hide a secret, but it always reveals in the end – like how it revealed her father's rotting corpse.

But she never cried. The desert had dried her tears long ago.

**2.** When Kankuro had been born, Temari remembers how the smile on her mother's face grew brighter. It was like with every new life, she found a little more life in herself. Temari felt it too. She begged her mother for another little brother or sister. She begged every day for two years.

And then Gaara was born.

**3.** She remembers the funeral, the screaming baby boy. She held him in her arms as the coffin descended into the depths of the ground. She stared at the headstone with her mother's name on it. Eventually, the sand would come and hide it away.

And still the baby screamed and screamed. He never stopped. Into the day and night he would scream for the next few months.

But it wasn't for his mother. Temari remembers the screams of her mother as she lay dying on that bed, the once-white sheets blood-soaked and dripping. Even after her father had smashed their mother's jaw into pieces to try and silence her, she had continued to scream embittered curses.

She had only died when the baby was finally torn from her ragged body.

They had buried her with the urn.

The baby continued to scream.

He was cursing the village too.

**4.** For many years after Gaara's birth, she would run away into the desert. The desert would always strip her back down, take away her emotions, and leave her feeling like she was nothing more than the wind. She would lie on a sand dune and stare up at the cloudless sky.

'If only I could be the wind,' she would say, over and over again until the words no longer even felt like they had a meaning. 'If only I could be the wind, I could leave this place.'

But she never could leave the desert. Her wings had been clipped when Gaara had been born.

**5.** Temari sorts through the box labelled 'memories'. She finds an old wooden doll. It's been many years since she's seen this. Kankuro used to drag it around everywhere…

He used to be a cry-baby, doll in one hand, and his mother's hand in the other. He would follow her down the street, the doll's feet dragging on the ground behind him. He only ever wanted two things – his mother and his doll.

When his mother had been taken away from him, he had been heartbroken. He only had one thing left in the world now, and when it finally sunk in that his mother would no longer be coming back, he tore his doll apart.

Temari had picked up the pieces. She had to be strong, like her mother had been. She practised everyday, doing the same smile her mother had once done. And she repaired the doll. She gave it to her little brother and gave him the smile.

Until he grew out of it, Kankuro would walk down the street, doll in one hand, and his sister's hand in the other.

**6.** She hated Gaara.

She hated him like she hated her father.

But her father was the lesser of two demons, and the devil she knew better.

Gaara… he was the devil she didn't know. And it frightened her. She had trembled in terror when she saw her uncle's body being brought down from the roof. Even though he was wrapped in a sheet, the blood seeped through and left a trail on the ground. The trail led straight into the desert.

They had left him there, without a coffin, without a headstone, without even any sand to cover him. He stayed there for days, bloating and rotting in the sun while the vultures pecked through the sheet to his corpse. The desert had refused to bury him.

Temari watched, day by day, until all was left was a skeleton. The desert had stripped him of all he had been.

She continued wishing she could be the wind. She could have forced the desert bury him.

**7.** 'I'm going to be the wind,' she said stubbornly.

She dragged the fan behind her. It was twice her size, and nearly as heavy. She had saved up for months for it. Nobody had given it to her as a present – this was going to be her own achievement. When she had bought it, it had been ordinary. Nobody had ever thought such a frail and decorative thing could be a weapon. Temari had bought it though. She didn't see it as something to hang on a wall – she saw potential and strength. She was going to make it a part of her, and she could become part of it. They would become the wind together.

She made it stronger. She gave it pride. She made it her own.

And with it, she scaled to the top of a cliff, where she learned… learned to become the wind. She leapt from the cliff top and she was the breeze. She felt no fear. The wind was never afraid.

Temari was finally the wind, but she kept herself grounded. If the wind wasn't afraid, then it wouldn't be afraid to stay a little longer.

**8.** Temari never asked to be a ninja. But it had always been expected of her, just as it had been with her siblings. She squeezed the headband in her hand before tying it around her neck. She was a Shinobi, a Kunoichi, a Soldier of the Sand. She would have to blindly follow the orders of her superiors… even if it killed her.

She took the A-rank mission without hesitation. She had to. It was her duty.

As she left the meeting room, she gave her father a glance. He never looked at her anymore. His stare only rested on Gaara.

This was what the mission was – suicide. She was thirteen. Kankuro was twelve, and Gaara ten. They were children, marching to their deaths. Their own father was sending them to their deaths.

'I don't want to die,' whispered Temari. Kankuro stayed by her side and squeezed her hand.

Gaara… Gaara walked ahead, whispering to his 'mother'.

Temari stood and watched as the ground under their feet became soaked in blood.

'If you don't want to die, kill everyone else,' Gaara said with a smile. 'Isn't that right, Mother?'

Temari decided to become the Wind, unforgiving, relentless, and chilling to the bone. She cursed the name of her father, just as her mother had done before her.

They marched back home, covered in blood that was not their own. Finally her father looked at her.

He called her a cold-hearted bitch. He said he liked that, that she was just like her mother.

**9. **The wind blew itself out one day. It was the day that Kankuro told her she had changed – that she wasn't the sister he remembered. Her warmth had gone. She only intervened because she had to.

Temari shook her head and denied it.

That night, she cried herself to sleep. The wind had become as cold as the look in her brother's eyes as he stared up at the moon, muttering to himself about how he wasn't alive.

She wished she could remember how the wind used to feel when it was happy.

**10.** She remembers the look on the blond-boy's face, as he lied in the dirt, tears running down his face; she remembers the look on her brother's face, as he lied in the dirt, a strange calm in his eyes.

And then he apologised to her.

She picked her brother up in her arms and held onto him tightly. She'll never let go.

Everyday since, she has thanked that blond-haired boy, who gave her back her warmth.

**11. **She had met him during the Chuunin Exam. He yawned in the face of the wind and called her troublesome. She struck back at him, but she couldn't catch him.

He was a shadow on the ground, untouchable by her. He was untouchable to the wind, no matter how strong it roared.

Somehow, she found a spark of admiration for the spiky-haired kid.

He still called her troublesome – he always would.

**12.** Temari never went to her father's funeral. If she could have had it her way, she'd have made the desert refuse to bury him, just like how it refused to bury her uncle.

Instead, she went to her brother's coronation to become the Kazekage. It was a quiet affair.

Later that night, the three sat on a cliff-top, staring down at the village as lights trailed through the street – vigils for their father leading to the graveyard.

Gaara commented that their father had ruined their lives.

Kankuro commented that their father had never given them their own lives.

Temari commented that their father was no longer in their new lives.

It was the first time they smiled together. They stood on the cliff-top, yelling out childish insults against their father and the fools who had worshipped him.

**13.** She won't ever talk about those days when Gaara had been taken. She won't talk about the pain she went through when he wasn't there. She only talks about the days after it, when they'd returned home.

Kankuro often asks her why she won't speak about it. She always responds with the same thing though – 'Big sisters aren't supposed to let their little brothers worry'.

**14. **Temari loves her brothers. They are her world.

She loves Kankuro– the face paint, the puppets, the way he wiggles his fingers to make them dance.

For her birthday, he gave her a collection of ornamental dolls.

For his birthday, she disposed of his collection of dirty magazines.

She loves Gaara – the smiles, the calm in his eyes, how he speaks so protectively of her and Kankuro.

For her birthday, he kissed her on the cheek.

For his birthday, she told him to never change.

**15.** When they're older, Temari will confess to Kankuro that she's a little jealous of him and his relationship to Gaara. She'll never quite understand the bond between brothers.

She'll be shocked to know that they always talk about her.

She'll be even more shocked to know that somehow the subject always changes from her to what's in the latest porn magazines.

At least she'll be glad she's not the one who has to tell Gaara about the birds and the bees.

**16. **She laughs the first time Gaara brings home a girl. She's a short little thing with a stubborn chin and a chip on her shoulder. Temari stops laughing when Gaara confesses the girl reminds him of her.

She laughs the first time Kankuro brings home a girl. She's a tall leggy thing with perfect breasts and a shapely ass. Temari stops laughing when Kankuro confesses the girl reminds him of her.

She knows they'll both laugh at her when she brings her first boy home. But she'll try her best to laugh with them. After all, Shikamaru's a pretty strange guy.

She tells her brothers he reminds her of them both. They all laugh together.

**17.** Konoha has changed a lot since she first visited. She considers it a second home now. She knows the forests around it like a grandmother, one that is inviting, quiet, and is good at listening.

She and Shikamaru walk through the forest, hand in hand. They talk to each other, and to the forest, who always has open ears. They make a lot of plans in the forest – like what day the wedding will be, and where they will have it.

They make something else in the forest too. Gaara and Kankuro will be surprised in nine months.

**18.** Temari will always be a mother. She became Gaara and Kankuro's mother when their own mother died. She wasn't very good at first, but she learnt. She quickly adapts again when she becomes a real mother – though changing diapers has never been her strong point.

'I never knew so much could come out of something so little,' her husband always comments whenever it's his turn to change the baby (Temari makes sure it's quite often).

'I like to tease Gaara and tell him that when he was a baby his diapers were always full of sand,' replies Temari. She laughs.

'You're going to have to teach Kankuro how to change diapers soon too,' he tells her.

Temari can only laugh harder at the thought.

**19.** She'll always blame herself that Gaara died young. He died protecting those he loved.

When they find his will, Temari cries. He says he wants her to be Kazekage, because she is the wind, and her gentle embrace supports them all.

She takes the job. She doesn't know that one day they'll make a statue of her and place it at the gates, where it will welcome all those that enter, her arms open wide.

In the future, they'll think the lady from the statue was a goddess.

**20. **Temari will lay flowers on the graves of her brothers everyday. She'll place an extra flower on the grave of her husband and smile.

'Do you like the view here, Shikamaru? It's right under the sky.'

She'll stare up at the sky a lot in her final days, wondering what the future will hold for her village. Finally, when she dies, she'll truly become the wind, and her spirit will soar.


	11. Paper Cranes, Fly Away with Me

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N:** Another "truth" thing like last chapter that I wrote a while ago, although this one only has 15 truths. Because I don't know much about Konan I didn't want to get ahead of myself. She's a little bit of a harder character to understand. I got inspired to write this mainly from the "Believe" one-shot a couple chapters ago, if you've read it you'll recognise a couple parts from it. I liked the concept. Anyway, on with it then.

I guess there's a bit of KonanPein going on in here, by the way.

Summary: _The Angel with Paper Wings... Her past crumples beneath her.  
_

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**Paper Cranes, Fly Away with Me  
**

**1. **It's been a long time since Konan has reminisced about the past. But she has many things to think over as she waits. She perches herself on the roof of a high tower, watching the landscape – not one of natural beauty, but of a more man-made setting. The shambling structures of metal reach for the sky, as if asking the sun to take pity and shine upon them although they are not beautiful. The rust covering the buildings are like old wounds, showing the scars of battling with the clouds that forever seem to curse them away from the sun and pour hatred upon them.

Konan does not smirk, although she wonders why they would beg the sun when Pain is their god. She knows that he will ultimately be the one to decide if they are beautiful or not.

She will not judge the city. Not until he has said she may.

She stares on, wondering when his fight with their former teacher will end, and if a man is capable of striking down a god. Because she knows – when a god falls, his angels will follow.

**2. **The first thing Konan remembers are bright colours floating above her. She cannot make out the shapes at first, but over time they come. There they are – birds. They do not flap their wings, but they soar above her, circling. Around and around they go, forever trapped in the same cycle. She watches them for a long time until she falls asleep. When she opens her eyes, they are still there.

Why haven't they flown away yet?

It is because they are made of paper, poorly imitating life as they circle, attached to the mobile they cannot escape.

When she is older, she wonders if it is her destiny to follow a set path like those lifeless birds.

**3. **Konan's parents were not always perfect people. Her father, although a seemingly innocent man, was always the one chosen to go and follow up debts owed to the local gangs. He hurt others, but only because he was trying to protect his own family. Her mother loved her, but her money was earned from performing deeds best kept from the ears of innocents. She was the only one to bring money home at the end of the day.

However dysfunctional and desperate they seemed, somehow they managed to raise their daughter. There were always moments that Konan wished would last forever: her father showing her how to play shougi with the broken set they owned, patting her on the head when she managed to make a good move; her mother showing her to fold paper, and one day bringing back a colourful book with origami designs that set her heart glowing with eagerness. She had felt a lot of guilt that day after the initial excitement – her parents went without proper food the next few days.

But still they encouraged her to keep creating, and everyday would bring back a piece of paper for her to use. She was careful to always get the folding right and not waste the precious resource.

Soon the little shack they lived in was filled with bright creatures and objects. Konan's parents said they were proud. It would be one of the rare times she felt proud of herself.

**4. **They could never afford many grand things, their house being one of them. The shack had three small rooms, just enough space for what they needed. Although it wasn't grand, her mother would always joke that 'at least we have a view of the water'. They lived on the edge of a shanty town built next to a lake. A rickety jetty jutted out into the centre, but the time of the lake's beauty was over. Konan remembers the piles of rotting fish that had been washed ashore one day after the water had suddenly turned a particular colour of brown. She pitied the poor animals. What had they done to be killed in such a way?

She wondered perhaps if the lake had been cursed by a spiteful god. It took her only a second before she shook her head and decided the lake had been cursed by humanity. Looking back at that moment, Konan thinks it was perhaps this that set her on the path to agreeing with Pain's beliefs.

**5. **She never told anybody, but she was meant to be a big sister. Konan smiled when she felt the baby kick against the skin of her mother's stomach. Her mother always let her listen to the baby whenever she asked, but as time wore on her face began to grow more worried.

It was the day her mother forgot to bring home a piece of paper for her that she began to notice. Her mother seemed more tired than usual, the colour drained from her complexion. When Konan had asked her mother about the paper, she had said they would have to be more 'frugal' with the money they earned. Konan didn't know what that word meant, but when she noticed the servings on her plate getting smaller, she felt like she was beginning to understand.

A month later her mother disappeared. Her father cried for a long time about many things – being unemployable because of his reputation, unable to support his family, and that he was a bad father. Konan had told him it wasn't his fault, but the look in his eye made it felt like her heart was being crushed.

When her mother returned a few days later, her stomach was silent. When Konan asked, she was told the baby had been taken away to a better place.

Konan saw her counting the money later that night when she was supposed to be asleep.

**6. **When she smelt the smoke, she awoke to an empty house. Her parents were nowhere to be found. She walked outside to find the grime-covered passageways of the town empty. When her foot landed in a puddle, she looked down expecting water. Red clung to her skin, dribbling down between her bare toes. As fear enveloped her, she ran back towards her home, hoping and hoping her parents would be there when she returned.

Before she opened the door, she looked down at the lake and froze. The water was no longer brown, but red.

For a long time she stood by the water's edge, staring at the claw-marks in the mud leading down into the lake. She stood there until the fire came, and burned everything away.

She always felt guilt that a tiny part of her heart had felt like it had been freed.

**7.** Konan was unsure why she had been spared. She would never find out either – a mystery that refused to reveal itself even in her later years. The culprits, the reason, they never surfaced. For weeks she stayed in the burnt-out shell of her home, the ashes of her creations crunching under her feet as she moved. The fires had destroyed every scrap of paper in the town and being unable to create burned a hole in her heart. Eventually, she moved on.

Covered in rags, she made her home next to where a town disposed of its garbage. Everyday she would rummage around in the freshest piles and dug out anything she could – wrappers, newspapers, even pieces of soggy cardboard. She would take her treasure to an embankment by the road and would start folding, making paper cranes. The embankment became littered with them, a flock of birds unable to take flight. She continued to make them for months even as her fingers became stiff and refused to work. And when the rain came and washed the flock away, she'd start again after wiping away her tears. She couldn't give up, even if her hands wouldn't move. Time went by, lost by her account as she continued to fold.

"Why are you making those?"

The boy was around her age, with the appearance and type of stubborn-looking face she knew adults would label as a 'snot-nosed brat'. But his eyes were full of inquisitiveness. It had been so long since she'd talked to anyone.

"If… if I make enough of them, an angel will come and grant me a wish," she replied in a tiny voice. She stared up at him, hope filling her bloodshot eyes. "Are… you the angel?"

It took some time before the boy answered. He seemed to think the question over, wondering what his purpose for being here was. Giving up, he scratched the back of his head and grinned. "If you want me to be," he replied.

He extended his hand, and she accepted. She accepted him as her protector, her angel, and her friend… but it would be some time before she saw him as a god.

**8. **Yahiko had been the little boy nobody wanted. He had been born to a couple in a place where tradition was strict. Whilst his mother and father were strong at playing the part of caring parents, they were despised by their village for having a child before marriage. They shielded him from the glares of those around him, and he grew up oblivious to their hatred.

War grew too close, however. In that moment when chaos reigned and none restrained themselves, they finally took their wrath upon the family. Yahiko had been thrown out a window landing bloody and torn. Unable to move, he lay on the gravelled road listening while his mother was mercilessly beaten and his father was hacked to pieces. They threw their empty shells onto the ground next to him where they stared at their son with lifeless eyes.

Somehow, he survived. Yahiko had started to walk through the slaughter around him and kept walking – until he had found her.

Konan would always cry thinking about the story her friend had told her. This country… not only did it rain, it poured pain over anyone it touched.

And when they stumbled upon the dark-haired child weeping next to a mass grave, she felt as though her thoughts were confirmed. She stared at the crudely-made grave markers surrounding him. Had he done all this himself? Had he buried every single of them?

When he finally noticed the two and lifted up his fringe, they saw his bloodshot eyes, tears never seeming to run dry. Konan saw something of herself in those eyes.

"You're not going to hurt me, are you?" he whimpered. Konan noticed the bruises covering his skin. How much pain had he suffered? How much pain had they all suffered? She felt a lump in her throat as she looked up at the rotting orphanage, still burning. The smoke formed a straight path to the sky, blending in with the dark clouds that began to drizzle.

Konan resolved that day she would hide her tears in the rain. The sun shouldn't have to suffer shining upon her grief.

It was her turn to extend her hand this time. When Nagato called her an angel, she smiled. "Maybe one day I'll be an angel."

**9. **When they'd met the three Leaf shinobi, they'd been living on the streets for at least half a year. They had become a close family. Yahiko was their older brother, stealing food for them and leading them to shelter each night, even if that meant next to a dumpster in an alleyway – he'd still protect them and find some way to keep them from the freezing rain. Konan had found her place as an emotional pillar. She let Nagato cling to her every night as he cried. He still had the nightmares even months later.

She pretended to be a piece of paper, absorbing his tears and his terrors. But she knew it would only be a matter of time before she would be no longer able to take anymore and would crumble apart.

It was raining the day Yahiko had bravely walked up to the shinobi and boldly asked for food. Konan prayed quietly whilst Nagato whimpered behind the other wall. If Yahiko died… Konan knew it would be the day she could take no more.

"Konan… Nagato, come out! He's not a bad guy!"

She nibbled at the crackers cautiously, still wary. But whatever Yahiko said, she believed it. If these people were good like he said, then she would say the same. She knew Nagato would agree too. When Yahiko began to follow the three ninja they followed as well.

It was hard to believe that after all she had seen in this country that people such as this would show kindness. When Yahiko demanded they teach them ninjutsu, Konan took the wrapper from her crackers and folded it into a rose. It wasn't much… but maybe it could show them some ounce of appreciation. The man with the white hair smiled at her. It had been a long time since seeing a smile from an adult, and before long she found herself sitting at a table smiling and laughing with those she thought of as her family.

But the moment was soon gone as Yahiko's outburst about the war startled her. Many times she'd heard him mutter about hating the war, but never had she heard him say such his reasons, let alone his deeper opinions. She'd… never heard him sound so grown-up before. If the war was to stop, people would have to feel the same pain?

Somehow it made sense. What had brought the three of them together in the first place? It was the acknowledgement of the same pain of losing people close to them.

It seemed for so long that all she had been thinking about was how pain affected her. She had never thought about how pain could be used as a tool to make others understand, though it was as if she knew it all along.

"When I grow up, I'm going to make others understand pain," she whispered. She saw Nagato glance at her. In that moment, it was like they had made a silent pact.

Konan had no idea just how far that pact would lead her.

**10.** Paper… when Jiraiya had begun to teach them ninjutsu, she had no doubts that she would work with what she knew best. Although the rain made her paper weapons frail at first, she continued and learnt to mould her chakra. In every piece she made, she would strengthen the paper until the rain barely affected it.

The first time the paper shuriken hit the mark, she smiled. It was a step. How far would these paper ninjustu take her?

She lifted her hands up and let the paper crane she'd made flutter into the sky. The lifeless birds she had known from her youth had been given the will to take flight. It seemed to her that paper wings worked just as well as real ones. She wondered if an angel could be accepted even if their wings were fake.

**11. **It was one particularly rare sunny day that Jiraiya had asked Konan to take a walk with him without the others. She had been unsure what was going on at first, but as they walked down the path towards the town they got their supplies from, she became convinced.

"You'll be going soon, won't you?" she asked.

"I can't argue with a woman's intuition,'" replied her sensei with a crooked smile. "Tsunade could always tell when things weren't going right either. You're a lot like her really – with the exception of her gambling, drinking, and breaking my bones habits."

Konan could only raise an eyebrow at him. Jiraiya-sensei liked to ramble on about Tsunade and Orochimaru. She guessed that if she were in the same situation, she would probably talk about Yahiko and Nagato a lot too.

"Konan, I never want you to let yourself think you're any less worthy than the boys.'"

She blinked. Her sensei had never quite talked like this though. "I don't think I'm any weaker than them," she replied.

"Good. Because I just know you'll become a graceful kunoichi if you keep at it. Don't submit to anyone – you have the sort of strength and kindness that would make people kill for you. Live to protect those you love, and don't let anyone take your spirit." The man had pulled something from his pocket and placed it in her hair – the paper flower she had given him when they first met. "Promise me?"

"I promise."

Although she wanted to, she could not bring herself to smile. Perhaps it was because she felt she already knew she'd end up breaking that promise. Soon four became three once more and they set off to wander the country. Filled with a sense of purpose by Yahiko's beliefs, they did what they could to bring the unrest to an end. Years passed. Konan became a spy, seductress, silent assassin slitting throats without a second of sympathy. Although she had been kind, she could not be kind to everyone.

"To make peace, sometimes you must make war," she often whispered before the start of a mission. At the end, she would be the one standing on the battle ground, her partners sinking into the background so nobody would ever know of their existences.

Konan had decided to make her kindness something to only be shown to those who proved themselves to her. The victims were discarded, their worth was little more than unusable scraps of paper to her. The villagers who had bravely fought were rewarded by her kindness. The children called her an angel. She would smile for them, but she only ever laughed for Nagato and Yahiko.

**12. **She never quite liked the darkness, and never quite cared about the stars. The stars were nothing more than weak points of light, useless decorations made for love-struck fools.

However, it soon became apparent to Konan that she had become one of those love-struck fools. The snot-nosed brat had vanished from her life, and she was sure he had taken that muddied little girl with desperate dreams along with him. Left in their place was a young man with ambitions to protect the world and a young woman who knew nothing but how to follow his words.

And the boy who had been a cry-baby had become a warrior with piercing eyes. She had tried to block out the guilt every time she looked at him, but it always filtered back. It seemed unfair to love one of them more than the other.

She knew that Nagato wasn't ignorant to her feelings for Yahiko. It had been years since those old feelings of being a frail piece of paper had filled her, a sheet of crumbling paper soaking up the emotions that spilled over their limit. She knew… again it was only a matter of time before she reached that limit again.

The only thing she ever envied about the stars was that they'd stand strong and shine on for far longer than she ever would. The truth could never be ignored – paper was never meant to last.

**13. **Konan knew they had been lucky… so lucky to get as far as they could. But of course it was all bound to come to an end sometime.

She couldn't stop it… the tips of her fingers squelching against the blood flowing from his bubbling wound. The paper she held against it was quickly becoming drenched. Bubbles blossomed and burst as he tried to breathe. His lungs were trying to empty the liquid filling them. The coughs hacked up blood every time. It ran down his chin, covering his hair and shirt with red and eventually pooled beneath him.

She wasn't a medic! She couldn't do this!

"I said I'd protect you."

"Shut up, Yahiko!"

"Konan… I don't want to die."

Tears… She willed them to stop so her vision would not blur. She thought they had dried up long ago. She glanced up at Nagato and thought he was a child again. Even in this rain, she could see his tears. She didn't ask for his help. She couldn't. Jiraiya had taught them so many things, and Nagato had conquered them all. But he'd never learnt how to heal. Neither of them had.

It felt as though time suddenly had no relevance – it was like they were those little kids again. All the fears they'd had came flooding back, and the many times they'd joked about death felt twisted and wrong. Who cared about having a brave face or dying in some kind of blaze of glory now? All there was now were three small children, holding their friend's hands as the realities of life sunk in.

Konan can still vividly feel Yahiko's grip lessening around her wrist. She still remembers how he was coughing, with a trembling smile on his face.

"I remember those times… All those yesterdays…"

His eyes drifted to the sky, where the clouds refused to show the sun to him.

"I wouldn't change them… ever…"

Konan had been the one to close his glassy eyes, so he would stop seeing the rain that he had despised his entire life. What more could she do now? The grief was almost too much. The man she'd secretly loved for so long had ceased to be. The one she had devoted herself to… spirited away and leaving her sitting in the mud and rain.

He'd left her the same way he'd found her.

She couldn't hate him, she couldn't. It wasn't his fault. There was only one thing she could do now.

"I'll be the angel now… I'll be your angel."

She didn't even blink when Nagato lifted Yahiko's body up and cradled him in his arms. "I'll show them your pain, so that nobody will be hurt again. We'll show them your pain together… Yahiko."

Konan had been left alone once more that day. All that she once had had vanished into the distance. And yet still… everyday she would wait at that spot, hoping and praying that the man she loved would return.

Yahiko's message of pain and loss had never hit her harder.

**14.** She can't remember a day that went by where she didn't train. She had resolved not be left behind to become weak. She would be strong when he returned. It was the least she could do.

Eventually, however, she would run out of paper. The pieces she had used had become so torn and tattered that they were unusable.

The ache of feeling so useless drove her mad. For days she had stared at the back of her hands. Her nails were ragged and dirty. She had stared at the pale colour of her skin, which seemed to glow in the morning sun. It reminded her of her childhood when she awoke to the rays of sunlight glowing off the origami animals around her bed.

The thought entered her mind – perhaps… could she literally become paper?

Konan, once having said she would not be like paper, decided that the paper would become her instead.

When the paper first peeled from her skin, she felt like she was being sliced, layer by layer, by thousands of knife edges. It was as though she was demolishing herself. She had to stop, fight back tears and remind herself this pain was nothing. It was nothing compared to the pain she'd already experienced.

She gritted her teeth as her skin shed itself, flickering from her form like the pages of a book.

And then… she was free. She saw it all, felt everything… the caress of the wind hundreds of times over, weightless, the warmth of the sun on a rare rainless day… and she was sure… she was sure she could hear Yahiko, telling her all about how he wished everyone could feel like this.

This was the dream of freedom. Her paper wings were for him.

**15. **Konan had been sitting in that muddy clearing that he had found her again. Her eyes were closed and arms raised to the sky, wrists ending in nothing but stumps as tiny paper cranes flew around her.

"Konan," came the whisper.

The cranes began to tumble from their flight, reforming delicate hands on the young woman's wrists. Her eyes hardly dared to blink as she stared at the man, with her body beginning to tremble. He… he was here, as if he had never died. The man stretched his arms out beside him, palms facing her.

"Konan," he repeated. There was no emotion in his voice, nor in his eyes. His face was blank, but still, Konan ignored it. He was here, that was all that mattered.

She could not refuse herself as she ran to his outstretched arms and clamped her own around him. His scent filled her nose, and it was still the same. The man gently placed a hand against her face and brushed loose strands of hair from her sight so she could stare up at him and see.

His eyes…

"Are you Yahiko, or Nagato?" she asked. It was like this person was a stranger, but still so very familiar.

"I am Pain," replied the man. "I am their legacy – the man who was struck down, and became a god in return for his pain." He'd pulled her close, placing her head against his chest so she could hear his heart. "And who are you?"

Nagato… Yahiko… The one she loved, and the other she wished she could love… had they both sacrificed themselves for the sake of this dream? Why had she been left behind then? Why?

Legacy…?

Was that it? Someone had to help this legacy?

She closed her eyes, listening to his heart beat in an excruciating rhythm. This was her purpose, her promise, her pain to bear.

"I am… God's Angel," she whispered.


	12. Death, thy name is Yugito

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N:** You hardly see anything for Yugito, poor girl. The summary for this one is: _Death is swift and unforgiving. She thought she knew it. But the pain was more than she could believe._

* * *

**Death, thy name is Yugito**

That fleeting life, she knew death all too well. But her own was a too-new experience. Shocking.

She looked over her crumpled body, blood-stained and tossed aside like a useless object. Pain. Nothing but pain for all those days. She begged for death in a silent voice, but only one could hear and it screamed back at her, desperately.

The Nekomata, the Symbol of Death, the Monster of Twin Tails, was now screeching to cling to her life – it seemed pathetic.

But… now it was over. In those fleeting moments, in the shining white space of nothingness, she had held the creature's head in her hands and embraced it. The creature she had resented, respected, restricted within herself. Somehow, despite the hatred and the arguments, they had formed a bond. Surely, Death couldn't love, but in that fairytale ending, it had cried as they departed.

She stared into the ruins of her own eyes, blurry reflections of the night sky littered on their lenses. The stain of blood had carried onto the ground around her. A blooming flower, pressed against her cheek, rubbing red onto its petals. Beauty marred.

She was sprawled on the grass of some unknown place and far from home. Nobody would find her, nobody would bury her. In this field she would only rot until nothing could distinguish her from the ground itself. Nothing to remember her by, her existence was extinguished. Her world was destroyed.

How often… How often she had talked to the dead… listened to their laments and cry about their own worlds abolished to forgotten graveyards.

She thought she knew the pain. She was wrong.

This was death. This was what it was like. This was nothing like what her empathy had predicted. She was a hypocrite to listen and to say she knew that pain.

"All in vain," she whispered, "all in vain."

Her punishment was before her, obvious. She would be lost to eternity, to join that wandering army that would never find rest.

She only had herself now.

"Death… thy name is Yugito."


	13. The Cat and the Bee

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N: **I found quite an awesome potential pairing between Yugito and Killer Bee. Yay, minor OTP!

_Five things about a cat and a bee they never told anyone else..._

* * *

**The Cat and the Bee**

**Two Taunts**

That woman always called herself 'second best'. It had always annoyed him because of how it could be mistranslated.

"Second best to what, hey, Nii?" He'd ask whenever he heard she had used the phrase again. "To the Raikage, or to yours truly? You'd be getting all unruly, spouting shit like that."

"Don't waste my time with your pointless sessions, Killer Bee." That woman and her eyes – she was in a class of her own. Despite the claim perhaps meaning second best to him, she still looked down her nose at him. She really was one of the few that could leave him speechless for a moment. And always… always she would do the same thing, just as he did when she used that phrase. She'd turn away a little with the tiniest of smirks on her face. "What's wrong, Killer Bee? Cat got your tongue?"

"Tch, stop cutting my rhymes off, bitch, can't you see I'm in fine form?" He paused, taking out the little notebook he was so fond of. Muttering to himself, he jotted down words. "I'm in fine form… I'm an electrical storm, a meteor swarm. Make sure you conform before I go and perform. Ladies and gentlemen, Killer Bee's on the stage. Shit yeah."

Yugito would merely shake her head with that same smile at the edges of her mouth.

**Keeping the Peace**

It was rare that they liked to talk seriously. But being who they were, they couldn't help but feel a connection of some sort. Every now and then, without saying a word, they would meet atop the cliffs where the wind would send ripples out across the lakes below and the reflected clouds would distort with every gust.

They didn't exactly talk, it was something without words. They would merely sit at the edge of the cliff with eyes closed. Sometimes, they weren't even sure it was them that were doing the talking. Taming the beasts within them, sometimes letting them have a little freedom to talk to one another seemed a better idea than bottling them away with all their rage and lust for destruction.

The two Jinchuuriki didn't need to say anything to each other. It was probably even better that nothing was said at all. Despite their appearances, with their harsh words, cold looks, and high expectations, there was that one thing within them that was weary of all that. It was comforting to just sit there without saying anything knowing that there was no such thing as judging and expectations. Not in that moment at least. This moment was just to feel liberated.

"Killer Bee's feelin' free."

"And so is Yugito Nii."

"Bitch, that didn't fit the beat right."

"Oh shut up and enjoy the moment."

**Respect**

Wide-eyed, when Yugito first met the older boy she instantly admired him. Today was their first training session together.

"I demand respect from all my students," he huffed. "So you'll call me Jinchuuriki-sama, got it?"

Yugito pouted at him. "But I'm your only student! And if you're Jinchuuriki-sama, what does that make me? I'm one too you know!"

Killer Bee flicked her on the nose. "I'm angry like a bee, so if you're gonna talk back you're gonna get stung." He ignored the scornful look on her face and folded his arms. "And 'cause of that, you'll get called Chibi-chuuriki."

She stomped on his foot. Perhaps admiration was too strong a word.

**For Curiosity's Sake**

They'd spent a night together, for curiosity's sake. There was nothing fantastic about it, or terribly wrong. It was just… well, that was that. In the morning he'd woken up to find the cat had slinked away in the night. She was never one to stick around, it seemed.

Funny, because it was her house as well – Killer Bee dressed and stood on the balcony overlooking the village. For once, his mind wasn't buzzing with new rhymes and rhythms. True to what he knew, that woman left him speechless.

They never talked about that night again. It was probably better that way.

**Never got to say...**

In that white space of death, Yugito felt the life drain from her. She had failed – all those years of training only to end up here. She could almost hear Killer Bee's words ringing in her head about what a bitch she was to get herself into a situation like this.

The Nibi was screaming as it tried to cling to her. In the years after she'd tamed the beast, she often heard it purring in her dreams – a stark difference to the unstable times before where it would scratch at the edge of his mind leaving her dreams as frayed ribbons. But now was more than she could bear. She had somehow become fond of this beast. And in this time, drifting into the eternal sleep, this parting was far from a sweet sorrow. It was terrible and tragic and a bitter nightmare.

Before they parted, she held the creature's head in her hands. Its stark-white eyes were pitiful.

"I'm sorry I couldn't let you see Hachibi one last time," she whispered softly to it.

"Or say goodbye to that man," it replied with a voice much softer.

Slowly, it turned to ash in her palms. Yugito knew her time had come too. But she couldn't help but wonder about how her death would affect him. He'd probably put up that strong façade like always, saving the grief until he was alone when he would destroy everything around him. It wasn't one of his best traits, but she still forgave him for it. They were only human after all.

"Let him live," she muttered to the white space of death. "Please let him live."


	14. Rain Reflecting

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N: **This was written as a prompt for the word 'raining'. :D

_Tenten wonders what the rain means to her and the people around her.  
_

* * *

**Rain Reflecting  
**

She hummed that happy little tune as the rain fell. She could never understand why people felt so melancholy at the thought of rain. Wasn't it something to be celebratory over? The thing that satisfied life so easily fell like a gift from the heavens. A drink of cool water after a long hot day of training – that was something Tenten liked. The feeling of warm water gliding over your skin to wash the dirt away – that was something else she loved.

Yet people would always stare up at the sky with those woeful eyes wishing the clouds would whittle away to reveal the sun. Tenten splashed a gumboot-covered foot in a puddle, disrupting the reflection upon it. Neji was one of those people who hated the rain. Tenten had always had her suspicions. Perhaps it had to do with how much he strove to prove himself when he was younger? She would often come across him training in the forest, come rain or sun. He'd count the birds that flew past, but birds were more likely to hide when it rained. She guessed he just didn't like the idea of birds being trapped in the trees waiting for the rain to pass when they should be flying free in the sun.

Now Lee… there was someone who made no distinction between the sun and the rain. He'd always say the same type of thing to her on rainy days: "The Springtime of Youth often comes with many Spring Showers! Yosh!". She supposed that was true. You just had to learn to live with it.

But although there were too many that disliked the rain, nobody could quite deny that one little thing about it they always found amazing.

Spotlights of sunshine shone down upon the village. Tenten lifted the brim of her umbrella to look up and see the rainbow that passed overhead. Now _there_ was that one little thing.

"Tenten-san! It is the Bursting Youth that comes after Springtime Showers!" yelled Lee. He waved at her from down the street where he and Neji were waiting under an awning. Neji was looking up the rainbow with a reserved smile on his face.

Her footsteps splashed through the mirror-like puddles as she ran to meet them. When even the sky celebrated after the rain, it made her all the happier.


	15. Fragile

**Disclaimer: **Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and not me.

**A/N: **Ahh, this one is a little worrying for me. I love NaruHina, but writing it from this angle was a little weird. Anyway, I hope everyone likes it regardless.

_Hinata had enough of fainting and the pain of secrecy. She had to tell him. Say it, damn it!  
_

* * *

**FRAGILE**

She'd had enough of fainting. The pain of her stupidity hurt her heart too much. She cried herself to sleep a lot more since Naruto-kun had come home. And over and over again she'd whisper to herself and tell her what a fool she was for loving someone so oblivious to her. She wanted everything in the world to be a fairytale for that boy she'd watched from her hiding place behind the trees. She wanted so much more for him.

She wanted more than this for herself too. Why couldn't she have a fairytale ending?

Hinata awoke in the quiet dark of her room. The warmth from her skin had dried the tears that had been on her pillow before. She was glad – she wanted to forget those tears and the nervousness they brought.

Pulling on a coat over her pyjamas, she walked from the house into the dark world outside, silent before the dawn. The ground was hard and cold under the thin slippers on her feet, determined to make her turn back from wherever she was going. Her breaths were turned into warm clouds brushing against her lips. Something in the cool air seemed to stir her on until she reached the end – a certain apartment building.

She climbed the stairs until she reached the roof. She couldn't go to that particular door, not yet. The sun was still hiding away from the world, letting the stars glitter their most brilliantly before the dawn. She held her hands out towards the stars, hoping maybe one would sparkle a little brighter in encouragement for her. They continued to twinkle in their usual patterns. Disappointing.

"I wonder… Do you see the stars the same way I do? Or do they sparkle even greater in your eyes? Maybe even less – they'd have to seem less compared to your determination… But how do I sparkle in your eyes?"

A star fell from the sky leaving a white streak against the darkness. She stared at the fading line until her eyes welled up with tears. She cursed them. Instead of shining brighter for her, one had fallen like a bad omen. She couldn't help but let the pain of her heart overwhelm her again. She was such a fool! He never really noticed, not truly. He'd give that goofy grin and give her some strange backhanded compliment. But she'd seen the smile he only ever reserved for Sakura, something that said they both were connected in some way they thought Hinata couldn't understand. But she understood, she understood failure, feeling like something was entirely her fault, the eyes of disappointment upon her and those that burned with hatred. She'd seen those eyes from her own family – that was surely worse than seeing them from strangers, right?

She wiped her own eyes. She knew ambition too. Maybe not on the same scale as what was inside that young man, but she still knew what it was like to want so much more – much more than this! To busily make those plans and hope the foundations you laid down were solid enough to hold you up and not fade with the future. Because nothing was more uncertain than the future if you let it sweep you away from your foundations – you had to cling to them!

Could she ever feel truly connected to that boy and be acknowledged in a special way? Or even tell him she loved him?

Quietly at first, but she began to laugh at herself. Foolish, foolish, foolish Hinata. She couldn't even stay conscious around him, let alone get her words out enough. Her laughter at herself couldn't stop.

"Hi…nata-chan? What are you doing up here?"

The girl froze. She must have woken him with her stupid laughter. Don't faint, don't faint! She turned slowly to face him.

The sight of that boy's face blinking at her – that same goofy expression. That one that never showed the smile she wanted! It was infuriating!

She stormed over and slapped him. Hard. He stared at her in disbelief, touching his reddened cheek lightly. She knew he hadn't seen this sort of Hinata in a long time – not since he watched her getting bloody and beaten at the Chuunin Exams.

"Wha-what was that for?" he demanded. He stuttered as badly as she did in this moment of shock.

She glared at him, hand raised in order to slap him again. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. Words… she had to use words now… Use words, Hinata! Come on! Open your mouth, girl! DO IT, DAMN IT! SAY 'I LOVE YOU'!

"I-I-I-I-I…"

STOP STUTTERING! SAY IT!

"I-I-I-I…"

GET ON WITH IT!

"I hate you!" she screamed. Her eyes were wide with fear, but her mouth kept going. The pain had to be let out, it couldn't stop. "I've been working so hard for your sake all these years! I cleaned your apartment while you were away so you could come home to a clean house. You encouraged me to become stronger, yet you never talk to me or ask how things are going. You don't seem to recognise the sort of pain I've been through too. Neji-nii-san wasn't the only one who was shunned because of who he was. And I've only ever wished so much more for you and cheered you on from the sidelines. I hate you because I love you!"

She'd regret ever saying that, but how would he have reacted if she'd just told him she loved him?

"You know, I think that was the wake-up call I needed," Naruto would confess to her many years later. "I can't believe I was so oblivious."

He'd give that goofy grin at her, but now she seemed to see it in a different light. It was a smile just for her.


End file.
